Thank You
by Phedre no Delaunay
Summary: Hotaru witnesses a battle. Oneshot.


Title: Thank You

Author: Phèdre

Theme: #20 fearless, reckless, hero(ine)

Summary: Hotaru witnesses a battle. One-shot

Pairing/Characters: Heero Yuy (Gundam Wing)/Hotaru Tomoe (Sailor Moon)

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I wrote this for 30Houshin, on LiveJournal.

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A rumble sounding like thunder drew me from my father's side. The clear, bright morning sky suggested that thunder was unlikely, but up in the mountains, it was hard to tell. I left the house, scanning the sky for signs of a storm, but the small, fluffy clouds were white as snow. Something else had caused the loud noise. Returning to the house, I reassured my father with a few soft words, and then took my coat from its place on the wall. I suspected I knew from where the noise had come, but it warranted further investigation.

Outside, the air was brisk, and I was glad I had my coat. I hurried along the wooded path that led from the back of our modest house further up the mountain. A moment's hike would take me high enough to view the military compound situated in a valley about a mile from the base of the mountain. Until recently, my father and I had lived in that compound, me attending school and he working, inventing all manner of gadgets for military use. We had been happy, until...

Shaking off the anger that always surfaced when I thought about what had happened, I quickened my pace until I emerged from the forest. Before me lay what must once have been the most beautiful images nature provided. All around, mountains rose deep green, reaching for the heavens. A few of the taller ones were still capped with snow. The valley, at one time a fertile plane cleaved in two by a small river, was now corrupted by human influence. The military compound sprawled over about a square mile of land, all white and shining metal. Around it, small communities had sprung up, families of soldiers and businessmen hoping to make a profit from those families. I had never held such ill feelings toward the intrusion until we had moved to our house on the mountain. Viewing the valley from a distance put it in perspective.

The wind whipped furiously in the clearing, and I had to hold my hair out of my face for a clear view. The noise had indeed come from the compound, an explosion in one of the mobile suit hangars. Smoke billowed from the ruins. I could not see the soldiers from such a distance, but surviving suits were visible, skirmishing with the cause of the explosion. There were pitifully few left, and they were not faring well.

Their opponent was one of the Gundams, supposedly evil vigilantes from the colonies. The media proclaimed them terrorists and criminals, and perhaps their actions could be considered wrong. But, compared to those they fought, the Gundams were saints. Whatever damage the military sustained, they deserved it.

I could not help but be bitter toward the organization that had ruined my father's life. When he had outlived his usefulness to them, things had started...happening. Machines malfunctioned, machines my father worked on. One man lost an arm, his career ruined. Another died. No matter that the machines were easily accessible, easy to tamper with. No matter that most of the people on the compound knew exactly how the machines worked. My father was blamed, disgraced. Obviously, if they had proof that he'd been responsible, criminal charges would have been filed. They had no proof. Kicking him out of the military and ruining any chance he had of a future was needlessly cruel.

The wrong done to my father was not my only problem with the military. Most people on Earth saw the colonies as property, and the cry for independence ungrateful. I saw it as reasonable. Colonialism was abominable. People should not be ruled by dictators so far away, dictators who had the Earth's and not the colonies' best interests in mind. In my eyes, these Gundam pilots were heroes.

As I gazed down on the destruction in the valley, my thoughts turned to the pilot himself. From the gossip one inevitably hears living on a military base, I knew him to be a boy no older than myself, fifteen. The Gundam he piloted was called zero-one. No one knew more than that, or if they did, they weren't telling. He must be brave, I thought. Fearless. I could never take on the entire Alliance as he and a few others did. Not only was I physically weak, but I would lack the mental focus necessary. He was truly amazing.

I wish I could help you, I thought. Stand by your side, give you what I could. Tend to you when you are injured, comfort you through the nightmares you must have after so much killing. Anything to help.

But, would you accept that help? Probably not, I scolded myself. Stop dreaming about something that'll never happen.

I stood a moment more, watching as the Gundam tore the compound to shreds. "Thank you," I whispered. Then I turned, and went back down the mountain. Father would be worried.

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As with all my stories, I prefer constructive criticism to mindless praise. If you choose to review, please take the time to write more than a couple of words. Let me know what you liked and what you didn't like. And, this is a one-shot, so please don't ask about future chapters. There won't be any.

Thanks for your time!

Phèdre nó Delaunay, Comtesse de Montrève


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